


Fallen Snow

by MalsWords



Category: Gundam SEED Destiny
Genre: Almost porn but not quite, Confession, Emotional Constipation, I'd say First Time but it doesn's actually have that vibe, M/M, Tsundere, sorry - Freeform, unresolved reader sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 16:19:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8408356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalsWords/pseuds/MalsWords
Summary: Dearka thumps his head back against the bed and stares at the ceiling like he's found God.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Me and my bf marathoned both Gundam Seed and Gundam Seed: Destiny, and I am HORRIFIED at the lack of work for this ship. I know they're much more shippable(?) in Seed but they're legal and in a better place in Destiny.
> 
> Anyways this is terrible but I wrote it so I may as well post it :>
> 
> Enjoy!

Yzak buys a ring.

It's stupid, oh it is so very stupid, but that's what he does. It's a pretty little silver band with a small blue stone. He is an idiot. Inhaling through his nose he almost tells himself so, but that would make him look like the moron he obviously is, and he has an image to maintain. Even to himself.

He lies back on his bed in their shared hotel and holds the ring above him, tilting it so the stone catches the light. It's his colors.

Now that he has the small band, however, he has no idea what to do with it. He hadn't exactly planned the purchase, but when it caught his eye in a clear glass display case during their visit to the PLANTs, he hadn't been able to walk away. It belonged on Dearka. He felt it in his soul. Destiny.

Gifts weren't normally his thing. Hell, affection isn't even his thing. He can't remember the last time he openly complimented the man that has dominated his thoughts for years.

The door to their quarters beeps and Yzak palms the ring defiantly, moving to slide it into it's little velvet box and tuck it away in the drawer of the small table beside his bed just as the door slides open and Dearka meanders in, carrying more shopping bags than he should be able to carry. Yzak doesn't move to greet him, offering a mild scowl instead.

After gathering courage and downing half a bottle of wine, he leaves it in Dearka's machine the night before they have a routine outing scheduled. He's nervous, but he shoves it down. Dearka's bullshit is something he has dealt with for so long now, nothing he can do can come as a surprise.

He is very wrong.

Dearka doesn't mention a damn thing. His machine launches like normal, he snarks an appropriate amount as he sifts through the debris field, and when he returns he doesn't immediately come see Yzak.

Yzak is horrified.

Given, he hadn't left a note or anything with the little velvet box, but he figured his best friend wasn't a fucking idiot and knew his god damn eye color. As far as confessions go he realizes it's pretty intense and cliche. He should have just took the moron aside and told him he wants to suck face, instead of pulling an extravagant stunt.

Fear curls in his gut like a hot ugly thing. There. He did it. He gave the stupid ring away. He confessed his feelings in the most contrived, roundabout fashion he could think of, and now all there was was the agonizing wait to see what Dearka had to say about the whole damn thing.

The next time Yzak gets a chance to interact with the object of his poorly displayed affections is almost a week later when Dearka slides next to him at the cafeteria.

"You've been holed up for a while, glad to see you've crawled out of your lair to grace us with your presence." Dearka smiles, voice warm and friendly. He even bumps his shoulder for good measure. The pretty silver band sparkles on his hand when he puts his tray down.

Yzak responds the only way appropriate for the conversation. He puts his damn foot in his mouth.

"Shut up." He snaps with a lot more venom than he intends. He's been so wound up over this whole event and it's eating away at him. He raises his eyes to give Dearka a killing glare but his eyes stick against his will to the ring shining against dark skin. It looks incredible. Heat slowly rises to his face and his skin prickles with discomfort.

"Thanks, by the way." Dearka grins, cocky and sure of himself. Yzak wonders briefly if the bastard has ever been unsure in his life. His tongue sticks heavy in his mouth so he figures the heat radiating out to his ears will have to be reply enough. He averts his gaze and glares holes in the wall. Dearka, obviously as well versed in dealing with Yzak's shit as Yzak is with his, continues as though his silver haired superior isn't bursting into angry flames.

"Though for some reason it didn't come with an instruction manual, so I might have to get that from you later. I mean I understand the *traditional* meaning of little strips of shiny metal curled into hoops, I'm not entirely sure of the context here, other than you're the only person I know with the ass-backwards method of ring first talking later."

"Keep your fucking voice down." Yzak hisses as he gets up, humiliation now adding to his delightful mix of emotional constipation. He leaves his half eaten food on the table and briskly moves off towards his quarters, glancing back briefly to make sure Dearka would follow. Dearka has a good sense of things and is reliable, so of course he's cleaned Yzak's tray and is following at his own pace.

Yzak sets his jaw and tries to ignore the aching in his teeth from the pressure. By the time he keys his code into the door panel of his quarters Dearka has cautiously caught up to him, his pressence a stark contrast of relaxed and aloof to Yzak's sharp lines and radiating fury.

It's not actually anger, Yzak knows. His temper is sharp and his defenses high, but he's not mad. He's ashamed, nervous and uncomfortable, and the end result looks awfully similar.

He strides purposefully into the center of the room and falters, hesitating and straightening his uniform to gather his composure before finally turning around. The ever-present fire just under his skin cools in a wave that makes the fine hairs on his skin prickle.

Dearka is leaning against the wall, knee up like the delinquent he is, a small smile on his face. Adoration swells briefly as Yzak takes in his best friend's easy demeanor. No matter how worked up he gets, somehow Dearka is always calm and stable. He opens his mouth to attempt to tell him so, but snaps it shut immediately as his nerves get the better of him. Activating his special ability he glares instead, heat blotching his cheeks. He wonders for a moment if someone can actually die of embarrassment. Dearka is still watching him calmly, and it strikes Yzak that he's giving him time to pull his shit together.

With a shaky sigh Yzak lets himself stiffly sit on the edge of his bed, lowering his head in his hands. It takes an aggressive amount of effort to quiet his pride enough to chill the fuck out, but somehow he manages it.

Dearka still doesn't say anything as he moves across the room to sit beside him, and the silver haired boy couldn't be more grateful. If Dearka started running his mouth, it wouldn't take long for Yzak to panic and kick him out of his quarters with a few sharp words.

They sit in silence for a long stretch before Yzak's anxiety peaks and tumbles past Fear and into Invincibility. He doesn't raise his head.

"I'm in love with you." Yzak deadpans, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. He can feel the ache of the damaged flesh where his scar was, and focuses on that for strength.

"I know." Dearka whispers, his voice so low and soothing it makes Yzak tilt his head to give him a side eye.

"You know."

"Well, I gathered. I-- ah, that or you're not. Um. Interested in much of anyone, I guess." He laughs nervously and rubs the nape of his neck, and something in Yzak's stomach does flips. Dearka being unsure of himself confirmed. It's unfairly endearing. "A lot of people disagree with me, I'm sure, but I can tell when you're angry and when you're just... You. I mean, uh, for the longest time I wasn't sure if it was actually like--" He breaks off with another laugh, bringing his adorned hand between them both and tilting it so the ring shines. "It's beautiful, by the way."

Yzak hums, feeling bolder now that he's worked through almost a complete emotional breakdown.  
"It suits you."

Dearka hums and haws for a moment before brightening up and smacking Yzak on the shoulder with more force than necessary. His grin is blinding.

"Yes." He says, as though it's the answer to every question in the universe.

"Yes." Yzak parrots back, clearly missing something. Dearka shoves the ringed finger in his face with dramatic emphasis.

"I do? Yes? I would like to be your Boyfriend, Yzak Jule, please stop being so tsundere. I get it. I got it. We're good." He pauses to snicker at Yzak's stricken face before he sobers up.

"I like you too, moron." The darker boy whispers, leaning forward on his knees to get closer to Yzak's still hunched position.

Yzak pales.

"You do?" He states more than asks, voice rising up to his normal strung out tone.

"I do."

"You do."

"Oh my fuck-- Come here." Dearka grasps both his wrists in hands far warmer than his and spreads them, forcing Yzak to straighten with an indignant noise. To his deathbed he would deny ever making that squawk. He would take it to his grave.

The air in between them stills and Yzak is forced to look at Dearka head-on. He can feel the heat of each of the larger boy's fingers on his wrists, feel where force is being applied. A deep flush spreads across dark skin and Yzak watches amethyst eyes slowly dilate. He swallows thickly.

Dearka locks eyes with him and doesn't move, and Yzak struggles for air in the suddenly too-hot room, in his too-hot skin. He licks his lips and tries to avert his gaze, but stops himself. Running away isn't really his style. This is the same as any battle. This is the same as everything he's ever thrown himself up against. _This is like nothing he's ever been up against._

Schooling his expression under the heat, Yzak lets his smirk return. He's confident. Yzak Joule, the Captain of his ship. With a small huff he uses Dearka's grip on his arms to pull the taller boy closer, his own arms pulling up over their heads to bring their chests almost flush. Dearka somehow darkens even more and it makes something hot and slick twist in Yzak's gut.

Confessions, gifts and girly emotions were definitely not his thing.  
This. Oh, this could be his thing.

"I hate talking." Yzak hisses into the puff of air left between them, and Dearka looks like he might either faint or devour him on the spot.

"I know." He breathes instead, eyes lidded and expression absolutely filthy. Yzak thinks he must be one upping him, with the way he can't stop staring at the wet flush of Dearka's lips. "God you're--"

Yzak cuts him off with a growl, shifting to pull Dearka's mouth to his. He barely allows their lips to meet before he rips the chasteness from the action, tilting his head to run the flat of his tongue along the other boy's warm, chapped lips. Dearka moans and Yzak takes the opening, finally pulling his hands free so he can curl his fist in gold hair. He pulls and Dearka's sounds sharpen.

He pulls away just long enough to shift forward, the sudden lack of contact chill down his front. Dearka makes a hungry noise and pulls him forward by the hips, yanking Yzak into his lap. Yzak exhales throatily and works to reattach their mouths while Dearka fumbles with his uniform coat.

"I want to fuck you." Yzak states boldly, and the color drains fiercely out of Dearka's face before flooding back three fold. "I want you to fuck me until I can't pronounce my own name."

"Take your clothes off." Dearka chokes, already shifting back to claw his way out of his uniform. There's a desperation to his actions that make Yzak's head spin. His mouth goes dry when his eyes land on the impressive bulge straining against Dearka's uniform slacks.

That stupid ring was the best idea he's ever had.

Yzak manages gets his coat all the way off before he gives in and crawls over to where Dearka is sliding his shirt off. He pins the larger boy's hips to the bed and licks the bulge in his pants, dragging the flat of his tongue up the fabric. Dearka freezes and stares at him with a mildly horrified fascination. He looks ready to faint.

"That's filthy." He hisses in awe, staring like he's seeing the sun for the first time. Yzak scowls.

"I don't know what floozies you've been bedding," He snaps, pausing to mouth the stiffening bulge again for good measure. "But they don't sound like much fun."

"I-- fuck, I haven't been bedding _anyone_."

"Oh, Well. That's good." The Natural girl floats through his thoughts briedly, but he dismisses it. He doesn't want to know.

Yzak takes the liberty of sliding his long fingers under the hem of his partners slacks, feeling for the clasp there. Dearka's hips jerk at the touch and Yzak is momentarily distracted by the delicious curve of his dark hip. He licks it to show his appreciation, not trusting his sharp tongue to form adequate words. He adds teeth just before pulling away and Dearka gasps. To drive his point home.

"How have you been hiding this from me?" Dearka hisses with a hint of exasperation, his fingers digging into the sheets of his Commander's bed now that their job was stolen.

"Hiding what." Yzak keeps his voice surprisingly even as he works Dearka's slacks open. Grabbing them by the thighs he tugs them down in one fluid motion.

"T-This! Holy fuck I would have confessed a lot sooner if I knew you'd fucking _eat me alive_."

"Yes. Truly you fucked that up. I'm honestly ashamed of you."

Dearka's brows knot together before he snorts an ugly laugh. "I almost missed that. Just wait until I tell everyone you tell _jokes_."

"Not if you intend to get you dick wet, you won't."

"Oh my god all this time I thought you were _civilized_. Is our whole friendship a sham?"

Yzak hums noncommittally and abandons the heat of Dearka's lap to wiggle out of his own slacks. "You never really asked about my sexual preferences or initiative." He snarks as he pulls his shirt off over his head, taking a moment to languidly stare down his flushed companion while he fixes his hair.

"I never-- Well fuck me. How have you done an about face from nearly bursting a blood vessel in your head over giving me a ring to stripping me within an inch of my life and looking at me like _that_?"

Yzak blinks down at him, but decides against insults. "That's the plan. This is easier. I know what I want."

Dearka licks his lips and swallows thickly. "And what is that?"

"To take you apart, obviously."

Dearka thumps his head back against the bed and stares at the ceiling like he's found God.

 

 

 


End file.
